Out of Arrows
by Connet
Summary: A night elf with a memorable past is meeting up with everybody she's ever met, along with new people. Oh, oh, oh, and don't forget about that one person who keeps reappearing. And it's all bundled into one adventure to Ashenvale. Somewhat AU. Drink a glass of ice cold water while reading or else.
1. On The Road, Say You?

**Author's Note:**

**Rated T for cussing, cursing, swearing, some heavy cursing words, some heavy cussing words, some heavy swearing words, crazy themes, lore-rape, and everything else a young adult/teenager should be able to deal with.**

**Enjoy the bizarre creation of 15 minutes worth of work.**

* * *

Duskwood was filled to the brim with zombies, renegade worgen, undead, spiders, wolves, worgs, ogres… the list goes on, and on, and on…

Personally, I love Duskwood. It is rather nice, with a comforting layer of darkness that settled over me like a blanket. Lu, the human warrior who sat in the sidecar of my chopper, looked minorly affected. His hand kept itching towards his sword and I, personally, fought from snickering at his dilemma.

Arae, the rogue who was often referred to as 'Wolf' by Lu, sat on her talbuk, utterly unaffected. I snickered. Lu looked at me, probably wondering what crazy things were running through my mind. Now, that I think about it, many things come to my mind. I am, mainly, tempted to fold up the sidecar and leave Lu to Arae's clutches. And then, most dramatically, crash through a fence and launch myself into the dark and creepy forest that surrounds us.

Of course, I did not do that, for Arae would make some remark about how I can't keep my ass in the seat and Lu would say I was hoping to find a Troll that would return my affections as I so dramatically lavish upon every Troll I see.

I am a night elf woman of many things, mainly of personality; it distinguishes me from regular night elves, which is rather nice. No, I am not an Elune-damn tree-hugging night elf. I am a night elf who believes in Elune, can drink three dwarves under the table, and can firmly beat the crap out of anybody who dares oppose me.

May Elune protect me, I suppose.

"Fae, what'cha doin' now?" Lu says, glancing over at me. "Do you, by any chance, have a light of any kind? It's hard to read this map in pure darkness."

I raised an eyebrow, willing my glowing eyes to penetrate into his soul as I say, "Would you like to drive, and I shall navigate?" He should know how that will end, as I've continuously drove the three of us off a cliff or a waterfall. What can I say? I have a taste for danger – a need, you may call it, or maybe a desire?

"No," he states simply, "for I'd like to live to thirty."

"I'm…" I take a moment to remember how old my sister is, subtract a hundred years… "Fifteen-sixteen thousand years old. Depends."

Arae looks back at us, thoroughly amused by the looks of it. "And, in those fifteen-sixteen thousand years, have you met a Troll?"

I raise a cerulean eyebrow. "I've been forced to kill thirteen, sadly, and I regret the day when it becomes fourteen."

"You mean," Lu corrected, "you will regret the day when it becomes fourteen."

"I haven't spoke in Common in so-and-so-long!" I cried hysterically, to the point of tears. Literally. Add _emotional_ to the list of things that I am, please.

"Stop picking on our sharpshooter," Tiff said stiffly, snapping her head back to glare at us with steely green eyes. Yes, steely green eyes. They're a very light color, rimmed by dark green, and they are, in fact, steely. "Crazy sharpshooter," Tiff adds.

Tiff, in short, is a bitch. We've traveled from Booty Bay to Duskwood with her, which was rather uneventful considering her attitude. She has an offish sense of humor, which caused her to nickname me "the Crazy Sharpshooter of the Moon". Me, personally, decided that did not fit me.

One, I am not crazy. I was insane.

Two, I am not a sharpshooter. I am a hunter – huntress – and that means I have pets. I do, in fact, have pets. A sweet little moonsaber cub named Shiri, a black panther named Shadowfire, and many more animals. Of course, they all stay in Darnassus, where my sister and her husband care for them. I only brought Shiri, as she's easy to pack around.

Three, I am an ex-priestess of the Moon. Healing; I can do some, but I'm not a big-on healer. Elune, obviously, decided I was not meant to be a priestess. My sister was. Elune meant for my sister to be leader of the Kaldorei. My sister…

My sister is sort-of like, the savior of all the Kaldorei, the light of our people… nobody ever bothered to bat an eyelash at me, the one who always-

"Fae."

I plastered a cheeky grin to my face, looking at Arae innocently. As if a cheeky grin and innocent look could go that well together. They possibly could, but I cannot see my face without a mirror, and that is tragic enough.

"Are you daydreaming again?" Arae asks.

Tiff groans in mock disapproval. "She's a motherfucking night elf, Arae." Tiff says, as if that explained everything, but she continued on, "so, naturally, she's dreaming about Trolls."

I scowl at Tiff's back, disapproving of her she rode on her horse like a queen. "I was not." I spit the words like venom, mind you, so don't take this as a petty excuse most mortals give their parents. "I was dreaming of how much fun it'd be to ride off this very road." Then, remembering, I say, "And I do not fuck mothers. That is something you'd be likely to do, Tiff."

"And break a bone?" Lu inserts naturally. "Hopefully not mine."

I have never, ever, ever broken a bone. I've dislocated just about every bone in my body, though, and I've fractured my wrist. That, however, is nothing compared to the pain it'd feel to break a bone. No, hah, I've felt that pain. It's like a burning sensation that tears at your very soul and threatens to consume your sanity.

Oh, wait, I don't have any sanity left, do I? The demons consumed it all, along with my overdramatic will to live. But, no, it didn't consume my sisters. It didn't consume her husband's. It consumed and broke and ruined mine. Why do I do what I do, being a Raider? I do it because it's the only thing I'm good at, besides shooting things. My sister can't take insanity and my ability to shoot away from me, and nobody can.

Pardon, but I've been on a moonberry-alcohol-beer-ale-whatever-it-is haze since we've left Booty Bay. Nothing feels right, perhaps like I'm in a dream? Ooh, perhaps I'm a druid and I never knew it? Perhaps, I'm more powerful than Malfurion Stormrage. I have a few bones to pick with him, along with the fact that he never bothered to introduce me to Illidan.

Oh, yes, I do have problems with that. I have very, very many problems with him never, ever, ever introducing me to Illidan.

I look up, suddenly bored with my catastrophic thoughts, and wonder if the sun even shines down on Duskwood, or perhaps it is just the moon? Sighing, I ignore the raindrop that lands on my nose, tiny, tiny droplets of water falling into my eyes. Without a thought, I say, "It's going to rain."

Tiff looks back and scowls. "Obviously."

I can practically feel Arae roll her eyes and Lu whistles at Arae's back. He's going to pay for that, later, especially if they end up bunking together in Darkshire. Well, I'm not going to like being forced to bunk with Tiff. I'm taking the blanket, and there's no stopping me. If she even tries to take it, I will-

"What's wrong, Fae?" Lu asks.

Thank Elune for that interruption.

"She wants to go on a joyride," Tiff purrs, slowing down so she can look down at me and Lu – Lu and I. "Lu can ride with me, and you can go dislocate all the bones you want."

"Um, Fae," Lu says, terror flashing in his eyes, "can I just, you know, stay with you?" In a lower, quieter voice, he says-whispers, "Arae would, you know, throw a fit over me riding with another woman."

I raise an eyebrow, thoroughly amused. I am a woman, and he is riding in the sidecar of my chopper.

"She's fine with me riding with you, though. We trust you," Lu adds, whispering now.

I roll my eyes. I've only known them for… what? Eleven, twelve months? Possibly, I've known them for a year, which has been rather slow to me. Then why can't I remember any of it? Damn, the passage of time these days. I'm going to be crazy by the time we get to Duskshire. No, forget that, I'm going to be sane by the time we get to Duskshire.

Sighing, I stretch my arms above my head, ignoring the fact that Lu and I are slowly veering off-cobblestone-road, before jerking the handlebars back into place and scowling at Tiff. She only continued to watch Lu, immune to the almost-feral growling around us.

I hear Arae sigh, and then hear her say, "Lu, you're riding with me." And with that, she stops her talbuk and waits for Lu to hop in the saddle behind her, gesturing for me to do _whatever the fuck I want_. That particular gesture means _whatever the fuck you want_, nothing else.

I look over to the sidecar, pleased to see that Lu packed it up nicely, and look at Tiff longingly; she was assigned to be our leader, after all, and I couldn't do something crazy without her approval. So, Tiff rolls her eyes and flicks her hand impatiently, saying, "Meet us at Darkshire," before taking the lead and leaving me at the back. Alone. Free to do whatever I want.

Because of that, I viciously turn the handlebars and make it so I'm slowly going off-cobblestone-road before pressing my foot to the pedal and tearing off through the deep-dark-creepy forest.

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**Disclaimer: Fae and Tiff are mine, Arae is Zari's, and Lu is Lutais'. I don't own anything WoW, 'kay? And that shall cover it for this chapter.**


	2. In Duskshire, Say I

**Author's Note:**

**Boredboredbored-**

**Oh, you're still here? Does this mean I'm not as bad as I think? **

**This calls for a party.**

**But I have to write this chapter first, doe. Yay~**

* * *

I did not go off the road before seeing a flash of black fur, screaming, and going back to let Lu drive and clinging to Arae.

Arae doesn't seem too annoyed by the fact that I am clinging to her, even if her emotions are masked by no emotion at all. The only emotion I've ever seen on Arae's face is a cold, determined hate. I don't know what the decipher that as, but I'm guessing she wants to murder Tiff. I will help her. I make a small mental note to check out my Book of Murdering People Creatively.

Yes, I do have a book for that. I am a Raider, mind you, so I must have that at all times.

It's easier to just let things like that become a habit and allow myself to drift away from the traditions of Kaldorei society. My sister will be unpleased. But I don't care. I never have.

Well, I have.

But that's in the past.

Like, two thousand years ago past.

Ah… two thousand years ago, I was hiding in the forests of Ashenvale, clinging to my sister like a lifeline. That was because she was my lifeline – then I left for Outland in the middle of the day, which is like night to us night elves, and I joined Illidan Stormrage until his fake death.

Joy.

I'm banished from Shadowmoon Valley, mind you, so I can't go and visit him. It's tragic, I swear. It's probably because I end up purring whenever I think about him and-

"Fae, you're purring again."

Ah, yes, I am purring. Oh, and that was Arae who said it. Lu's too busy glaring swords at Tiff, and Tiff is too busy looking at Lu with a sultry look. Shiver. I'd be screaming and running back to the Worgen. Maybe they'd let me join them in their packs and such.

It could work.

Hopefully.

"Fae, my arm's going numb."

Eheh. Reluctantly, I let go of Arae's arm and settle for clinging to her other arm. She scowls at me before returning to her No Emotion Mask. I bob my head in a nod to myself for no apparent reason, probably because I want to do that.

Probably because I feel like I need to do that and regain some of my sanity.

If I even have any.

Maybe I left it in Booty Bay.

Have I?

This isn't good.

I require a small amount of sanity to keep from purring at every attractive male I see.

Good thing I don't find Lu attractive, even though many women do.

We have a brother-side bond.

I nod my head again, enjoying the feeling of light-headedness. It's night to feel like an idiot sometimes, like you're permanently placed in a time of candy and sugar and pink things.

Elune, I despise pink. Unless it's a bright pink I see night elf death knights sporting if they had purple hair in their Life-Life. I like that pink. It glows with a bright aura. I like luminescent pink, too, because it's just so… pretty. Light and airy.

I like light and airy, but I don't like flying. Or boats. I despise flying and boats. And light, poofy colors. Like light pink. Ew. No. I'm just… going to cling to Arae now. At least Arae despises light pink, too. Common ground between us, hunter and rogue.

Huntress.

Roguette.

Huntress and roguette; roguette and huntress, perhaps?

Hunter-ess. Rogue-ette.

Ess and ette are suffixes, as I was taught when learning Common – such an advanced language, but easy to learn – which means to create _huntress_ you have to take off the _e_ between _t _and _r_, add _ess_ to the end, and thus, you have _huntress_.

Same with _roguette_, except you add _ette_ and take off the _e_ in _rogue_, which makes _roguette_.

* * *

In the time it took us to reach Darkshire, I'd already worked out the suffixes in many things.

Deniable. Root word is _deny_. Remove the _y_, add an _i_, then add _able_ for _deniable_. If I had my literature teacher with me, Archmage Azylm, he'd be proud of how quickly I picked up on all of it. Sadly, he isn't here, and he's somewhere in Azshara working with another archmage. With mage-y apprentices.

I uncling myself from Arae, slide off of her talbuk, and kick Lu in the shin.

"Shit!" is all the Lu utters, while I stand there, arms crossed and a raised cerulean eyebrow in place. My look of disapproval, I call it. It takes Lu a few minutes to compose himself, gathering together his inner strength and probably ignoring the bruise that's forming where I kicked him. "What the hell was that for, Fae?"

I shrug nonchalantly. "You must stop flexing your muscles to the human women that are weak and scrawny to mine so I may fold up the chopper and get a mug of moonberry juice." I say this slowly, as if speaking to somebody who can't comprehend Common very well, giving a short pause between each word so the meaning can get processed through Lu's mind.

Thinking of which, Lu is raising both eyebrows at me. "I can beat you in a hand-to-hand duel, Fae."

"C'mon, pretty boy, let's see you beat me in a hand-to-hand duel." I grin at him cheekily - I'll need a mirror later to check the cheekiness of my cheeky grin - and look down at him. "Unless you're... afraid?"

* * *

**I have completed the second chapter, and now I must lay down the basics of what you must fo'give me fo' if you wish to continue reading, good sirs and madams. **

**1. I haven't written in first person in a long time, so I'm reminding myself to use says instead of said.**

**2. Fae is a cheeky, loveable bitch. I made her character naturally oblivious to the obvious and absolutely spontaneous. Love her for it, yes?**

**The end of the things you must fo'give me on.**

* * *

**Disclaimer: I don't own Arae or Lu or WoW or any of that. I own Tiff and Fae and all my OC's in this story. Dealwithit.**


	3. Abrupt Descisions

**Author's Note:**

**Amcm74: It shall be told in a later chapter. I already have a story brewing, right over there on the cauldron.**

**Warning of fluff, nonchalant plot settings, and ultimate story writing failure.**

* * *

"No, Fae, I'm not afraid," is all Lu says before he stalks away, but not before grabbing his bags and vanishing into the dark.

Maybe Lu could be a rogue. Maybe Arae's roguish skills are rubbing off on him.

But. Ugh. I'm left alone. In the dark. Sure, I can see in the dark. Sure, I practically live off the dark. Sure, the darkness is my is best friend, but oh-fucking-well. It doesn't mean I trust it with my life. Sure as Tyrande's eyes are silver that I'm not that gullible.

Heaving a great sigh that leaves my shoulders slumped and my forehead placed against the smooth wood beam of the stables, I'm left to question why I always do this. This as in picking fights with my friends, which, in turn, they are usually smart enough to leave me to beg for their forgiveness. If only this were that easy.

The haunted, irked gleam in Lu's eyes was enough to make me turn tail and run. Truly, I have screwed it all up. Don't I always screw it all up? Against my will, a hopeful smile takes over my face. It's always possible to vanish from Arae, Lu, and Tiff's lives forever. I've done it before, and I can do it again. I hope Tyrande's forgotten about me in the short time I've been gone. It's always for the best.

I'm just a troublemaker.

I am just another night elf who wallows in self-pity. Typical me, I suppose. Reluctantly, I lift my forehead away from the beam and exhale. Inhale. Exhale. Release arrow - no, stress. Release stress. Inhale. Exhale. Release stress. It's the easiest, calmest method I can scrounge up at the moment. For now, it works.

Glancing around, I check my mechnochopper (mechnohog?) for anything Lu may have missed on his Stalk Out Of Here, pull out a piece of parchment and a piece of charcoal, and scrawl a short note. It doesn't take much thought to write it.

_Arae, Lu, Tiff._

_If you're reading this, I'm probably in Stormwind City by now. No need to run after me because I am becoming an archer for His Stuffy Highness King Varian Wrynn. Much reluctantly. I'll throw a few air-kisses to Anduin, flounce around Stormwind Keep in all my bizarre glory, and then I'll be in Ironforge._

_Most likely dressed in layers upon layers of fashionable leather clothing that's lined with fur before going back to Stormwind City and buying myself passage to Northrend. There's always something to do._

_Much friendshiply love to Arae and Lu,_  
_Not much liking to Tiff,_

_Fae_

I realize I haven't breathed in a single breath, and force myself to inhale.

Inhale... Exhale... Release.

I look at the saddlebags on Arae's talbuk, wondering if I could march inside that inn right now and beg for their forgiveness - Lu's forgiveness, to be exact, because I was very rude earlier. But that's not going to happen because I am setting my path before me. The path of redesigning myself in a better way.

Hey, maybe Tyrande will forgive me.

Maybe I'll become a priestess again.

The note safely torn up, I walk into the inn with my best I-don't-even-know-what-has-happened grin on my face with my bags artfully hanging off my shoulders.

* * *

**Huehuehue. Crazy Fae.**

* * *

**Disclaimer: BLAH. BLAH. BLAH. I OWN FAE AND TIFF. ARE WE DONE NOW?!**


	4. Inhale, Exhale, Scream

So, I bought some beads.

And thread.

And now I'm making an anklet.

Because I'm bored out of my mind and Arae and Lu are off kissing somewhere and I'm left with Tiff who decided to go summon legions of demons and the boredom gave me a headache so I found something to do.

That something is turning into a very weird-looking anklet.

It goes purple, emerald green, dark blue, white, purple, emerald green, dark blue, white, red, purple, emerald green, dark blue, white. Repeat. Except I haven't really put it around my ankle to see if it'll fit, so I'll just keep going. Make a necklace, maybe?

And I bought beads and thread because it's raining outside and our joyous trip to Ashenvale has been delayed.

* * *

"Fae-Fae!"

"...what?"

"I missed you!" cried the hysteric death knight who was sobbing into my shoulder.

Today's just full of surprises and abruptness, isn't it?

A; I do not know this death knight who cried 'Fae-Fae!' and began to cling to me as if I were a lifeline. B; I'm pretty sure nobody's called me Fae-Fae since four years ago, and that was Kynana, and she's dead. Poor Kynana - she was a doll, you know. Never wanted to hurt a fly. C; I'm questioning whether or not Kynana was resurrected by the Lich King and became a death knight.

Well.

"Death knight," I say, placing my hand on the death knight's head and slowly straightening my arm out in an attempt to get the elf off of me, "I don't know who you are, but you know who I am. Who am I?"

"Faelynn Whisperwind," the death knight says matter-of-factly, sniffling.

"And who are you?"

"Kynana. I don't know my last name."

Cue screaming from I.

Frowning, Kynana clamped a gloved hand over my mouth and said, "Stop screaming, Fae-Fae. You're hurting my ears."

* * *

"Fae-Fae."

Is all Kynana calls me. Not Faelynn, not Fae. Fae-Fae. Two syllables. Fae is easier - it rolls off the tongue with a dazzling 'AY!'.

Except quieter and more dazzling.

I lace my fingers together and place them in my lap, watching Kynana copy my movements after a few moments. She's not a death knight, she explained, because she's a necromancer.

Ah, then why do you carry around that rune sword? I asked, purring all the while. Purring for no apparent reason to be precise.

Because I don't want to look as if I'm defenseless, Kynana had said.

And then I had smiled and suggested we play the Copy Cat Game. And that leads me to where I am now, sitting in the deep dark spooky forests of Duskwood with Kynana because it stopped raining and she wanted to frolic about. We didn't even bring our weapons, so we're dead. Err. In Kynana's case, double-dead.

I still can't get over that.

How can Kynana (Sweet little priestess-to-be Kynana!) be a death knight? Err. Necromancer. Death knight fits more, as she is wearing saronite robes and saronite, spiked shoulder pads and saronite everything. I'm pretty sure her hair isn't saronite, though, which is good. It'll be hard to braid her hair if it's saronite.

But saronite is usually black, so... And Kynana's hair is white.

I exhale slowly, watching Kynana's eyes widen as mine do, and think for a moment.

My absolute best bet is to ditch Kynana, or just put her out of her damn misery, but I seriously don't have the heart for that. It's Kynana, for crying out loud.

Kynana, Kynana, Kynana.

Elune, put me out of my misery. I'm dying here!

Not literally. Just mentally, and maybe my mood's being killed, too, as Kynana says, "What's wrong, Fae-Fae?"

And suddenly I find myself scowling half-heartedly, and Kynana copies me. Scowling at Kynana is rather hard, to be honest, because she has this little scowl that's got a pout mixed into it.

Kynana pouts. A lot.

And she's somewhat shorter than me, not to mention how young she likes.

Minus the facial tattoos and obvious shortness.

Or maybe I've always been tall?

Or maybe... Kynana's just really short?

A; I've always been tall, due to Tyrande being tall, which we get from Father-Dear.

B; Kynana was two-hundred-ninety-eight when she died, so she never completely grew up. I, however, am in my late fourteen thousands, I think and believe, and I'm considered young if you were to think about it, and so therefore, I'm still growing. Kynana, however, is still young.

Errr.

Two-hundred-ninety-eight, add two-or-three years, and she's either three-hundred-one or just three hundred years old.

Ugh. All this thinking hurts.

* * *

Headache gone, Kynana asleep and clinging to me as if I were her savior, and I'm just sitting here in the room Arae, Tiif, and I share, on the bed. And, apparently, Kynana's sharing it with us, too.

I'm not happy about it, but I'm not angered by it, either. More like... I'm numb, because Kynana happened to burst into my life again. Poof. Here's Kynana! Joy for Fae, joy for everybody-

"Fae, what in Archimonde's name are you doing?"

Without missing a beat, I say, "I'm allowing Kynana to cling to me and deal with her after-totally-not-a-spirit-life." _One. Two. Three. Four. Two. Two. Three. Four._ "Shh. She's sleeping." And that memorable pause was three musical, silent measures later.

"Death knights don't need sleep," Tiff hisses. "What kind of death knight is this Kynana?"

"Um, she's not a death knight," I snap, scowling. "She is a necromancer."

"Then why the rune sword?"

"How, in Elune's name, am I supposed to know?"

Tiff stops for a moment, raising an eyebrow and looking at me through narrowed eyes. Green, steely green eyes. Green. Green. Green.

Red. Red. Red. Red, the color of passion, hate, anger, love, and romance. Personally, I don't like the color red. Red's also the color of blood, which is often spilled now-a-days.

Sadly, I am not sure how I ended up thinking about the topic of red, just as Tiff says, "You're ancient. You know this stuff, but you act as if you were… in your early twenties!"

"In my early twenties, I was a child. No, not a child, a baby," I retort with the perfect touch of coldness.

"And what about the death knight necromancer?" Tiff asks.

"Who-?-oh." I look down to see Kynana's formly silver, now bright blue eyes looking at me with a hint of sadness.

* * *

**Short chapter, I know, but I've been like. "Well. Well. WELL. I'll just post this."**

**Why?**

**Because life has caught up to me lately and it's a pain in the butt. Therefore it's not a thousand-word chapter.**

**I'll update later in the week, promise.**

***HAS UPDATED LATER IN THE WEEK* 4/29/14**

* * *

**Disclaimer: Kynana belongs to Keb, Lu belongs to Lutais, Arae belongs to Zari, and Tiff and Fae-Fae belong to me.**


	5. Miss Faelynn Morose

**Author's Note:**

**I'm going to try and give you, at the very least, a 1,000 word chapter to make up for the horrible shortness of chapter 4.**

**...and I do not make breakfast until 2 in the afternoon because I spend all morning sitting in my room raiding the hell out of Black Temple on my rogues for no apparent reason.**

* * *

We're back on the road, the two-day issue of Kynana resolved to a mere headache.

Not a mere headache, but a pounding one, as if my conscious were trying to break out and find a better place – I don't blame it, for my mind is a horrible place. It's happy but sad, snappy but slow, and it always has the slightest hint of regret.

Whoa. When did I turn into a poet?

I exhale slowly, my shoulders slumping. Lu has taken the courtesy of buying a horse and riding up by Arae, with Tiff at the very front, and I, Fae, at the back. At the very least, I can be left to my incomplete thoughts in silence.

It's not really silence as Lu makes an effort at conversation with Arae and Tiff's snickering loudly, not to mention the irritating rumble of my chopper. The sidecar has been folded up and my bags are hooked and tied and strapped to the chopper.

Kynana's heading towards Redridge Mountains, in which I wished her wellness and happiness and then I broke down into tears. Elune, it was Kynana. Who would've expected her to come back into my life as a death knight?

Err. Necromancer.

And, with Kynana coming back into my life, it's given Lu and Arae more the reason to give me the cold shoulder. It annoys me somewhat, but I don't mind. Despite my happy-go-lucky and hysteric behavior, I've never really been much of a people person. I like to make friends and everything, but… I don't' quite see myself as a hostess for the party of the millennia.

And that is the exact reason I'm planning to leave them, head for Ironforge, and hitch a ride to Northrend.

The slow, sad music playing in the back of my mind reminds me of the songs Tyrande would sing when we were isolated in a room, which made me scared and gave her a reason to sing to me as if I were still one hundred and two.

Sighing, I glance up at the thick canopy of dark green and gray leaves, with leaves little sunlight to come through and makes my mood even the more gloomier. It's truly a pain in the ass to be so sad and gloomy that you can feel it in your heart. Like heartbreak, perhaps, but I've never quite been in love. It's always been the goal at the bottom of my list.

Find somebody to love. Specifically a Troll with a perfect Troll accent and voodoo charms that loves my shy behavior.

I was a hundred years younger, at the time, and naïve. Even more naïve than I am now, which is somewhat a relief because I could actually smile at somebody and not burst into tears at the thought they would, eventually, age and die and leave me alone.

Now it just hurts to look at Arae and Lu, and see them slowly age away while I sit in my prime youth (as prime-ly youthful as a fourteen-fifteen thousand year old night elf can get) and never age.

Actually, I'm always aging in some way. Personality wise, perhaps, because that's where it always drains away the life I see in everything.

As much as I feel bad for myself, I feel even worse for Kynana. _Oh-Elune-why-did-I-even-leave-her-in-there-in-that-inn-poor-sweet-little-Kynana-oh-Elune-I'm-so-sorry. _

_Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale._

_Don't scream. Don't scream._

I don't scream, thankfully, but tears begin their delicate descent down my cheeks and I'm cursing myself and, well, doing that natural Fae thing. Blinking back tears, telling myself I'm going to stop crying over stupid things, and, well, you know, being so emotional. It's actually rather painful to think back on my past actions and realize how childish and immature I was.

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**Alright. I made chapter 4 longer to where it's a little over one thousand words, and I have you this, which will be updated later in the week to a thousand-ish words and chapter 6.**

**Yay~!**

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**Disclaimer: I own Fae and Tiff and nothing else. Lu belongs to Lutais, Arae belongs to Zari, and Kynana belongs to Keb.**


	6. Quiet Time, Except I Made A Sound

**Author's Note:**

**Yay. Chapter 6. Sloppy work, I know, but still, chapter six.**

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We're on the edge of Elwynn Forest, Arae and Lu working quickly to make a fire while Tiff performs rituals of some sort and I'm... well, I'm crouched in a tree, waiting for my prey to walk by. Or maybe stalk by, or, you know, just saunter straight by me and offer itself as a target.

Yes, please do so do that and save me the heartbreaking work. Even if it'd still be heartbreaking to see a fuzzy little woodland bear or wolf give up so easily. If it were, say, a spider, I would be beating the living hell out of it. I hate spiders - they creep me out and they have tons of eyes and it's unnatural and scary, alright? _Not to mention they're hairy and large and they're spiders._

I sigh, my shoulders slumping as I attempt to get into a comfortable position. I've been kneeling, in a sort, my arrow drawn and positioned to attack for over an hour. Ack. My shoulders are really getting a work out. I stifle a yawn and lean against the tree trunk, my eyes drifting shut as I hear something enter the clearing I'm hidden around.

It's actually a humanoid, and a group of them, and they obviously don't see me. Several humanoids, really. One of them with light steps, two of them with heavy, careless steps, and two with soft steps. A rogue and two plate-wearers, and maybe a caster or two?

Holding in my yawn, I open my eyes and attempt to move quietly so I can actually see them. It's a very long, hard, painful, delicate process that takes about nineteen seconds, with an additional minute for them to begin talking in Orcish. Quietly, but still - I'm a night elf, for crying out loud. I have great hearing!

"Are the guards still following us?" says the orc - I automatically nickname him Sir Orcbreath.

The undead rogue - if his black leather armor and shiny daggers dripping with poison are anything to judge by - gives Sir Orcbreath a glare. "Of course not, you thick-skulled warrior!" Mister Rogue hisses. It makes me shudder.

"Calm yahself, Damar. Kagar was jus' askin' ah question."

_Eee! Troll! It's a Troll! Out of everything in the world, IT'S A TROLL! Whoa, whoa, Fae. Calm your raging tingly senses. You're going be killed if you even make a sound._

I grin without realizing it, already imagining how we'd meet. It'd start out with -

"Actually, Damar, you are incorrect. We're not being followed, but we're being spied upon," says a deep, rumbling voice. Obviously Tauren, even though I can't see anything except , _duh_, it's a Tauren. No other Horde race has hooves.

Oh. He mentioned we were being spied upon and shit. That means I made a sound.

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**Will update chapter 7 at a later date because I felt like this could be snapped into two chapters.**

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**Disclaimer: I own Fae and Tiff and all those fun characters except for Lu, Arae, Kagar, Kynana, and the mysterious Forsaken rogue and Tauren.**


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